Her Pain
by Read too much fan fiction
Summary: There was more to Eragon than she thought. Can he help her overcome her nightmares? A/N I have gotten 3 reviews so I will expand the story, BUT unless I get 3 reviews telling me another wise, songs WILL be in all of the chapters.


I don't own the Inheritance Cycle or the song "Days Ahead." A talented artist who goes by the name hania wrote the song. She can be found at Newgrounds. Please check out her channel!

Her Pain

He loved her. There was no doubt about that. However, they were separated by so much. More than she knew. After all, he was the one to save her from the Shade, and he was the one to heal her wounds. Many called him naïve, sheltered from the horrors of the war, but he was far more insightful than he left on. There was an old saying, "The eyes are the window into the soul." Her eyes showed pain, hidden pain. He had seen the pain in others. He would wander around the camp, trying to understand. Understand the warriors who fought, the wives that stayed behind, and the children who would ask, "When is daddy coming home?" And he always found the same pain, and in many cases, that pain would consume them. It would crush their spirit and leave an empty shell behind, a husk that only fought out of habit. And how many times had he held the children as they saw their father disappear into darkness? How many wives had collapsed onto his shoulder, shedding tears of despair. There wasn't much he could do except comfort them, whispering that it would be okay, and vowing to help in anyway possible. Sometimes, he could bring the fallen warriors out of the darkness; allow them to reconnect with the world, bring a family back together. But most of the time, he could only offer empty comfort. This was the true reason that he fought, to make sure that no more families were torn apart, but no one knew that. It was his little secret. Why it was a secret, he did not know. Maybe, in those times that he held a child or a wife in his arms, he felt connected to others. Around them, he was a man that swore to help them rather than a Rider that was unapproachable.

But Ayra? She had no one. She sought no comfort. She had no one that would hold her as the pain was released. She hid the pain, but he knew that she was at the breaking point, and he was helpless to help her. Or, maybe not? He couldn't approach directly, but he could show her how much pain she was hiding. A sudden noise caught his attention. He looked up. It was just a young girl singing to her friends. He remembered a saying that he had once heard, "Music soothes the savage beast." He turned around and walked briskly to his tent.

She walked around the camp, lost in her thoughts. Her dark thoughts always haunted her, day or night. She was broken, and she could not share her pain with anyone. Certainly not Eragon, the clueless Rider. What did he know of suffering? He was just a baby compared to her. There was no way he could begin to understand.

The darkness closed around her, and Ayra walked slowly back towards her tent. She needed sleep, but she did not want to. In her slumber, her nightmares would grow worse. But this was the burden that she had to shoulder. She walked into her tent. There was a piece of paper on her bed. She picked it, curious as to why it was left. A glance told her that it had been by written by Eragon. It wasn't a note, but a song. She frowned. Since when could Eragon write songs? She scanned the paper.

The pain is everlasting

The cure cannot be found She's one foot on her own and; One foot in the ground

How long can mind suffer

Each day there's something more

The med's don't help, they cover

A bandage to this sore

The bruises are reminders

That within she is torn

The needles broke the surface

Each stab became a thorn

She's like a garden flower

The sun can burn her ground

To save her comes a shower

Too much and she will drown...

It was…perfect. An accurate summery of her mental state. But how did he know this? How could he possibly understand her pain? She reached out to the dozing dragon.

_'Saphira?'_

_ 'What is it, Emerald eyes?' _

_ 'Have you told Eragon about our conversations?'_

There was an affronted snort_. 'Of course not.'_

_ 'Then how could he write this song?'_

_ 'I don't know. I guess you will have to ask him'_

Ayra stood up, and sent out a mental pulse. Eragon was by a woman and her daughter. She took off. Within a minute, she could see them. She hung back, hidden in the shadow of the tents.

"Why is daddy so cold?" The young girl had tear streaks running down her face.

"He has seen a lot."

"I want my daddy back!" Eragon knelt down and enveloped the child in a gentle hug. They stayed there for ten minutes, the girl sobbing into his tunic. Finally he let her go, and her mother smiled sadly.

"He's…"

"I know."

"Can you help him?"

"I will do my best."

There was a pause. Then, "Why are you helping us? Surely you have more important things to do."

"No, I don't." The reply was firm.

The mother gave a small simile. Suddenly she hugged the young Rider. "Thank you."

"No problem." He stepped back and watched them disappear.

Ayra stood there, shocked. Suddenly Eragon spoke, "I have held many wives and children as their brothers and fathers fall into darkness. Sometimes I can bring the families back together, but most of the time, I hold them as they cry. This is why I fight. This war tears families apart. I want to make sure that no more families are torn apart. I wanted to help you, but you would not let anyone in. I have seen this story before. I don't want you to follow that path. Let the pain out. You have people who care for you, and they are willing to help you shoulder your pain." With those words, he left her in the darkness.

Ayra stared at his retreating figure. Maybe he was right. Maybe he could help her. She sighed, and then slowly walked to her tent, her mind pondering the enigma that was Eragon.


End file.
